Obsidere
by thecrazyones
Summary: Obsession is a state that cannot be controlled, even if one is as absolute as Akashi Seijuurou. (This is not a romance).
1. Chapter 1

Note**: **I was just thinking of Akashi's relationships with Kuroko and Mayuzumi, and how they can be interpreted as friendship or romance. And then I thought, what if it was something else?

Warning**: **Pretty experimental on my part. Didn't even know which genre to classify this in.

Disclaimer**: **Kuroko no Basuke belongs to Tadatoshi Fujimaki.

* * *

Scaly, layered, hairy– the moth's wings fluttered near the glass window, beating it softly, letting out pattering sounds that resounded in the quiet room. It was trying to get out. The beating of the wings was getting quicker, stronger, faster. Flapping with more urgency. More erraticism.

Akashi couldn't keep his eyes off it.

His hand was poised over the shogi board, hovering over it. His fingers, lightly carrying a hisha (rook). Akashi felt his gaze increase in its intensity, as he scrutinised the moth. It was steadily getting more desperate, trying more furiously, violently. The beating of its wings became louder, more volatile in its rhythm. The sounds drifted into Akashi's ears, seeping into his mind.

Akashi felt his breathing quicken. His eyebrows furrowed as he stared at it. His hand, previously still, started twitching. Akashi could feel every strand of his red hair, brushing against his forehead. He could hear the sounds of his breathing intermingling with the soft beating of the wings in the quiet room, like a lover's caress.

He had never gotten over his childhood fascination with collecting insects. He enjoyed watching them, observing them as they fluttered their fragile wings within the constraints of his captivity. He would keep them in individual glass jars, then line them up neatly on his shelf. He would look at them, stare at them as they flew helplessly, hitting the walls of the glass jar, making futile attempts to escape from the claustrophobia.

He liked transferring them into smaller and smaller jars. The sounds of the beating wings only became louder and louder.

A knock on the door to his private shogi room broke his concentration on the moth. He tore his eyes away from it – performing the gesture out of pure physical will – and turned to see an inconsequential basketball club member come in. The boy would never make it into Teikou's first string. No matter how hard he tried.

"What is it."

The boy stood uncertainly by the door. "Some reporters are out there asking for you. They want to talk to you about winning the second national championship last summer."

"Fine. I'll be there in a moment."

The boy turned and left.

Akashi lay the hisha piece down gently on the board. He concentrated on making the gesture, feeling the contours of the piece on his fingertips. Then he pinched the bridge of his nose, and closed his eyes.

The second national championship match. Tetsuya had looked remarkably joyful after Teikou's win. Of course. I had said we needed him for the win. And he performed admirably. Spectacularly. Beyond my wildest expectations.

Akashi opened his eyes again. This time, he was staring at the moth with greater intensity. Glaring at it. It fluttered with great tenacity and strength against the window. Still perseverant to get out.

_So much determination._

The moth beat its wings, helplessly.

_So much spirit._

The pitter-patters of its wings filtered through the molecules in the air.

_So much fire._

The moth's prickly segmented legs were scraping against the window, emitting minute scratching sounds.

Akashi narrowed his eyes.

In just one match alone, Tetsuya had evoked a feeling so strong and so intense within Akashi. Akashi had seen literally hundreds in his pursuit for basketball greatness. The feeling pricked at Akashi's mind, niggled at it like a crow picking at a worm. He saw visions of the match, how Tetsuya was always there whenever needed, how he prognosticated the opponent's every move, how he elevated all of the Miracles to beyond extraordinary. He had been seeing the visions all summer.

_But all Tetsuya does is pass the ball. Albeit in a remarkably unique fashion._

He passes the ball in the shadows, making invisible fluid patterns right in the midst of opponents. In the midst of their enemies.

_Tetsuya creates layers in my basketball where there previously were none._

Layers. Layers of basketball sublimity.

Akashi let out a sharp breath. All of a sudden, he could hear his heart pounding in his ears. He lay a hand on his chest. As he felt the soft fabric of his jersey against his palm, he sensed his blood rushing through his veins.

What could he call this feeling? It was...a curiosity. A strange, intimate form of curiosity.

Nothing more, nothing less.

Akashi nodded to himself with satisfaction. A few moments passed.

He stood up from his chair.

* * *

"Akashi-san! Akashi-san! Answer my question!"

"Did you expect Teikou's win, Akashi-san? Hey, Akashi-san!"

"What did you think of Kamata West, Akashi-san? Did you think it was too weak for Teikou?"

Akashi withstood all the camera flashes with grace and poise. A charismatic, immaculate smile was on his face. The camera flashes reminded Akashi of white fluorescent lights. White fluorescent lights hanging overhead in a basketball court. Illuminating his players, his team.

And Tetsuya in the shadows, determinedly passing the ball around.

Akashi felt a strange sensation as the thought floated in his mind. He felt a sudden desire- he curled his fingers out of reflex, brushing his thumb over his knuckles. Outwardly, he merely stretched his lips wider.

"Of course I had expectations for Teikou's victory. It is in our motto, any other outcome would have been unthinkable," he said pleasantly to the reporter.

_It was Tetsuya who secured our victory._

Akashi reflexively performed the gesture again.

He turned to another reporter. "Kamata West was a formidable opponent. They performed admirably against us."

_Tetsuya helped me to crush them. They could never have withstood my strategy, once it was reinforced by Tetsuya's skill._

Akashi brushed his knuckles again. His skin felt like paper.

"Any other questions?" he said cordially.

"Here!" one reporter shouted. "Do you think Teikou will win this year as well?"

Akashi turned to look at him. He crinkled his eyes, and broadened his smile.

_Imbecile. Teikou's victory is definite, it is certain. Because I have all the pieces. Because I have...I have Tetsuya._

Akashi placed his hand into his pocket. He curled his fingers, this time keeping it in a fist form. "Well, I can't say for certain," he replied smoothly. "The middle school basketball competition circuit is full of worthy opponents. But..."

He paused, allowing the reporters to hang onto his every word. "...I have complete confidence in my teammates, and in Teikou's strength."

The reporters nodded at his words.

Akashi blinked, then tilted his head in thought. "Hm. I can say this for certain though. Our opponents will have an interesting time against us in the next championship."

He laughed lightly. All the reporters laughed with him. That was expected of them. Akashi knew how to subtly prod and poke them, how to magnetise them with his words. With his eyes.

_Tetsuya makes everything interesting._

He could feel his fingertips against his palm in his pocket.

"I look forward to seeing all of you again after the next match," he said. He took his hand out of his pocket and gave a charming wave to the reporters in farewell.

The sounds of the reporters and the camera clicks grew distant to Akashi as he left them. He walked through Teikou's corridors, hearing his shoes clatter on the concrete floors. He was still feeling the strange sensation within him. His hand was back in its fist form in his pocket.

He turned a corner, and stopped short. Tetsuya was walking towards him on the corridor, carrying books. The moment he saw Akashi, he quirked a polite smile.

In his pocket, Akashi's hand flew out of its fist form in surprise.

"Akashi-kun. Good afternoon," said Tetsuya, inclining his head in greeting.

Akashi nodded as well. "Tetsuya."

The sight of Tetsuya in front of him immediately made Akashi feel conscious of the strange sensation within him. He felt his throat closing and his breathing quickened imperceptibly.

Tetsuya smiled at him. "You were just meeting with the reporters, weren't you, Akashi-kun? I can tell from your slight irritation."

_Always so observant, Tetsuya. Always...so...observant._ Akashi's fingers twitched in his pocket.

Outwardly, he sighed and said, "Yes. They ask incredibly inane questions."

"Indeed." Tetsuya's lips twitched imperceptibly. Then his eyes widened. "Oh yes, Akashi-kun. I wanted to say this to you."

"Yes?"

Tetsuya's smile broadened. "I know I have already extended my gratitude and appreciation to you. But I want to do it again. Thank you, Akashi-kun."

Akashi's eyebrows raised.

"Thank you, for giving me this opportunity to play in a national match. I honestly cannot express my appreciation enough."

"And I merely told you to prepare for our third national championship this year."

"I know," said Tetsuya quickly. "I know." He looked down, and adjusted the books in his arms. Then he went on, "But I still want to express my gratitude once again."

There was a silence.

Akashi was feeling his heart pounding within him. His fingers in his pocket curled ever so slowly, until they formed a fist again.

_What is gratitude anyway?_ Akashi thought.

Gratitude was a form of appreciation. It was a feeling of vulnerability. A feeling of...dependence.

Dependence, Akashi repeated in his mind. His fingernails were digging into his palms.

There were individuals who thought of gratitude as a form of emotional fulfilment. Others thought of gratitude as a give-and-take. An 'I owe you'. A contractual obligation, birthed from guilt and the insecure need to pander to the person who had offered the favour. In other words, a sign of weakness.

Akashi stretched his lips into a smile. He took his hand out of his pocket to wave it.

"There is no need to express your gratitude so many times, Tetsuya. Just be certain to secure Teikou's victory in this year's championship."

Tetsuya nodded. "Yes, of course, Akashi-kun. But also to have fun with everyone." Tetsuya smiled, his eyes growing distant in thought. "Fun is important. If basketball is fun, Aomine-kun will continue to attend practice. It would be bad if he started skiving again."

"Fun?"

Tetsuya blinked. "Yes, Akashi-kun. Fun. Basketball is fun to me, as I'm sure it is for you."

"No, Tetsuya," said Akashi impatiently. "I do not think of basketball as 'fun' when I go to practice. I merely focus on building my skills and developing my muscles."

_Fun is pointless and frivolous in the pursuit for victory._

"Yes, Akashi-kun, all that is important, of course," Tetsuya replied, nodding again. "But I believe it is also important to have fun otherwise practice will become boring."

"Thinking of 'fun' will merely diminish your focus on achieving victory."

"I believe fun can actually help in focusing, Akashi-kun."

"That is illogical. The very definition of 'fun' implies a sense of distraction and diversion."

"Not if it's basketball we're discussing, Akashi-kun," said Tetsuya, shaking his head. His eyes were becoming more steely and determined as he argued his point. The fire in them was drawing Akashi in. He couldn't stop looking Tetsuya in the eye.

"Basketball is a game," Tetsuya continued. "Therefore in a game, there needs to be an atmosphere of fun or else all motivation is lost."

"'Motivation'?" said Akashi. He sniffed in incredulousness. "The only motivation I feel is to win. To secure Teikou's victory. This should be the way, Tetsuya. And as for what you said about basketball being a 'game'? I do not feel that way. Basketball is a sport. Sport is a ruthless field. It requires utmost concentration and focus. Thinking about 'fun' will merely keep you from achieving your goals."

After his words, Akashi was certain Tetsuya would be speechless.

"But Akashi-kun." Tetsuya was looking at Akashi with resoluteness. Once again, Akashi could not look away. "Just look at Aomine-kun. All your words will not do a thing to keep him going to practice. Whereas fun, will."

Silence fell between them.

Akashi was still locking eyes with Tetsuya. The complete determination within them was pulling him in, magnetising him, making him unable to blink or look away. It was unwavering, unflinching. Not a thing Akashi said would be able to move him from his unshakeable belief.

_Tetsuya_, Akashi thought. He placed his hand in his pocket again. Curled his fingers into a fist again. _You are just...so..._

His fingers twitched in its fist form.

The feeling of gratitude is dependence. It is weakness. But was dependence that weak if it came from a source that was immoveable in its beliefs? Tetsuya was intelligent, he had impeccable basketball instincts, he was grateful to Akashi for giving him the opportunity to exercise those instincts. But he also fundamentally opposed him.

Akashi took his hand out of his pocket. He turned away to continue walking on the corridor, walking away from Tetsuya. It took him pure physical will to tear his eyes away from the unshakeable defiance in Tetsuya's eyes. He was so drawn to it.

"Tetsuya. I will see you during practice."

"Ah, yes, that's right, Akashi-kun." Akashi could hear rustling sounds as Tetsuya adjusted the books in his arms. "I'll see you," called Tetsuya at Akashi's back.

Akashi didn't bother turning around. He was concentrating on making every step, for he couldn't stop thinking of that defiance in Tetsuya's eyes. And simultaneously, he couldn't stop thinking of the moth that morning.

* * *

Fire.

Akashi stood in a relaxed stance. His surroundings were pitch black. He couldn't see anything but the fire in front of him. He stared at it. His legs felt heavy, like lead. He couldn't take a step.

It was burning ravenously. All-consumingly. That was the nature of fire. It burnt away all in its path, consuming everything until everything became nothing. All beauty and hope reduced into black ashes and dust. The equivalent of nothingness and emptiness.

Akashi reached out a hand. He wanted to touch it.

_I want to...control it._

He was too far away. His legs couldn't move. Akashi stretched out his fingers, trying to touch the flames. They were mocking him, dancing about just a few feet away from him. The flames were moving, gyrating, whirling about in their taunting. A desperate anger arose within Akashi as he observed the flames.

He was physically powerless in the face of the flames. But somehow, he felt like things would be alright. Eventually, the flames would come to him.

_And I will be able to touch it as much as I desire. To control it, to manipulate it, to exploit it. To assert my dominance over it._

In the darkness, Akashi could only feel, rather than see, his lips curve upwards into a smil-

Akashi opened his eyes.

He was breathing a little heavily. His heart was pounding quickly and erratically within him. He blinked several times, trying to clear the vividness of the flames from his vision. He swallowed once.

_Merely a dream._

He lay under his bed covers for a moment, feeling the softness of his pillow against his head. After a short while, his breathing calmed down. He blinked again. Then, he threw the covers off of him and climbed out of his bed.

Sunlight was pouring in from his wall-length bedroom windows, illuminating the classic Victorian-style furniture in his room. It made everything look pretty, homely and cosy. The plush sofa in his room positively glowed in the sun's warmth. He glanced at it. It looked like it was winking and smiling at him, all pretty in its pastel colours.

A sharp contrast from the dank, musty darkness in his dream. The sensations had been so vivid, and so real to him.

Akashi walked towards a glass jar on the wooden table next to one of his windows. The sun shone on it too. The moth fluttering within it flapped its wings up and down, up and down, casting little shadows on the table.

Of course Akashi had captured the moth. It had attracted his attention so. Fascinated him, so. If he wanted something, he always went for it. With complete devotion and determination to achieve that task.

_Just like Tetsuya and his ideals._

Akashi reached out a hand. He touched a forefinger against the glass. It was cool, despite the rays of the sun. The moth fluttered towards his finger, as though drawn to it.

_Tetsuya_, Akashi thought. He watched the moth, as it hovered near his finger. If there hadn't been a glass barrier, it would have kissed his finger. He allowed the tender moment to persist for several seconds. Then, he flicked the glass with two fingers.

The gesture emitted a faint ringing sound. The moth immediately withdrew from his finger, as the glass vibrated.

Akashi smiled as he watched the moth fly towards the other end of the jar instead. It was desperately trying to get away from the loudness of the ring. Akashi turned away, and moved towards his wardrobe to prepare for school that day.

_Hm_, he thought as he dressed himself. _I need to re-watch the videos of the championship match. I need to re-watch Tetsuya's movements, his every decision and action._

_Why_? The question rose within Akashi languidly, like creeping tendrils of frost. Akashi paused, mid-movement in putting an arm through his collared shirt.

_I just...need to._

The thought of watching Tetsuya later that day after school appeased the restlessness within Akashi. He had felt that restlessness the moment he woke up from that vivid dream. Now though, once he made the decision, it settled down.

In a few short moments, he was in school. He sat through his classes looking like a perfect, model student. The teachers gushed over him, as they should. His classmates blushed when they talked to him, as they should. Akashi didn't pay attention to all that. He was thinking about later, about seeing Tetsuya later, about watching the video later. He felt a sense of anticipation which he hadn't felt in a long time. A certain...excitement.

_It is that curiosity again._

It made his fingers twitch when they shouldn't twitch, and his legs shift when they should be still. It made his thoughts drift to later, when he should, in fact, be concentrating during his classes. The lack of control over this restlessness bothered him slightly.

But of course, the excitement of watching Tetsuya trounced it.

After classes it was time for basketball practice. Akashi deliberately left his pace slow as he strode towards the Teikou gym. Even though he couldn't wait to go to the courts, to see Tetsuya execute one of his misdirection moves. He wanted to draw out the anticipation. The feeling of the torturous wait stimulated him. He very, very rarely felt this excitement.

He reached the entrance to the gym. With deliberate slowness, he leaned his head in, and saw Tetsuya executing his 'tap' pass. Ryouta had sent the ball over to him, and with masterful dexterity, Tetsuya passed it on to another first string player. That player performed a simple layup. Two points to Tetsuya's team.

"Kurokocchi, awesome!" exclaimed Ryouta. He ran up to give Tetsuya a high five.

Tetsuya returned it. He had a small smile of satisfaction on his face.

Akashi watched this scene, but his vision was filled with only Tetsuya. Observing the pass earlier had caused his heart to leap in his chest, and his breathing to quicken slightly.

_Ridiculous. I have seen that pass so many times._

He absolutely looked forward to seeing it again later, when he watched the video. He schooled his expression, then walked in. He went towards Tetsuya and Ryouta. They were both still conversing about the shot earlier. The moment Akashi approached them, they stopped and looked at him.

"Ah, Akashicchi!" said Ryouta, his signature beam on his face. "Are you going to watch us practise and comment on our performance?"

"Yes," Akashi replied. He was looking at Tetsuya. "I would very much like to do so."

"I don't think it'll be very useful though," said Ryouta doubtfully. He lifted a hand to scratch his head. "Murasakibaracchi is getting so good, I don't think there's any form of feedback to give him. He's improving so much on his own. And Midorimacchi's shots are just...they're unbelievable, Akashicchi! You should see them! He's getting so, so accurate!"

Akashi said nothing in response. He was still looking at Tetsuya.

"I can literally just point anywhere on the three-pointer line and he can make the shot!" Ryouta continued. "I mean, literally anywhere, Akashicchi! Seriously. I think...I honestly think he can even shoot beyond the three-pointer line. I don't know how far beyond. But it should be...should be pretty damn far." Ryouta let out a low whistle. "I'm thinking of testing it out later, Akashicchi, I think you should come watch, it'll seriously be so cool to watch him do that-"

"Akashi-kun," Tetsuya interrupted Ryouta's rambling. He had been meeting Akashi's gaze, eye to eye. "I wanted to inform you of something." Ryouta fell silent and looked at Tetsuya.

Akashi smiled. "Alright. What is it, Tetsuya."

"Earlier, Aomine-kun was shouting at one of the other players." Tetsuya sounded slightly upset.

_He must have been quite affected by the incident_, Akashi thought.

Tetsuya continued, "He was angry because he thought the player wasn't doing his best to defend against him. But I was observing them, Akashi-kun. The player was trying his best. I could see it."

Ryouta nodded at Tetsuya's words. "Yeah. I saw it too." He turned to look at Akashi. "Akashicchi. Aominecchi is also improving greatly. Well, he improved a lot already last year. But he's getting even better and better!" A shaded look suddenly came over his face. "I just wish...well. I kind of want to play more one-on-ones against him. But I don't know. I'm so uncertain. I don't know if he will...accept my invitation."

"I want to play one-on-ones with him too," interjected Tetsuya. He was looking imploringly at Akashi.

_Gratitude. Dependence. Weakness._

Akashi merely smiled reassuringly. "Don't worry about this, Tetsuya. Daiki is merely going through...a phase. He will get over it." He turned to Ryouta. "And Ryouta. I do know about all these improvements. I am captain of the team after all."

Ryouta nodded eagerly in agreement. Akashi's smile broadened. "All this growth is a good thing. It is beneficial towards securing Teikou's victory."

"But Akashi-kun," said Tetsuya. There was a slight earnestness in his tone. "Aomine-kun doesn't look like he's having fun. And neither does Murasakibara-kun. It's as though their improvement is making them bored with basketball. And boredom is detrimental. It'll dampen motivation, including motivation to go to practice and motivation to win."

_Once again, you defy me, Tetsuya. You can never accept whatever I say in the first instance. You must always debate over it._

Akashi felt his fingers twitching by his side. He wanted to curl his fingers again.

_And yet, every time you do so, the excitement compounds within me. I want to talk with you over and over again. I replay our debates again and again in my mind. I want to create new debates. I want to watch you defy me, listen to your voice as you argue against me. And then._

Akashi quirked his lips into a comforting smile at Tetsuya.

_I want to show you that I am right. I want to watch as you have no choice but to depend on me, to owe me and to listen to me._

"Yes, Tetsuya, I completely understand your concerns," said Akashi in a mellow tone. He hummed dulcetly. "Motivation to win is very important to me, as I'm sure you know. So don't worry. I will definitely attempt to correct this spiralling demotivation."

Tetsuya nodded. Akashi could tell he was satisfied, and slightly relieved.

"Now we should get back to practice," Akashi said briskly. "I want to watch you perform your passes in Teikou's offensive formation D. Ryouta will play small forward in this formation."

"Okay, Akashicchi!" replied Ryouta with exuberance. Tetsuya merely nodded.

_I want to watch you, Tetsuya._

Akashi spent the rest of practice observing Tetsuya. He didn't notice Ryouta's raw power as he darted through the defences of the opposing team. He didn't notice Shintarou's growing excitement at his distant shots on the other side of the gym. He didn't notice Daiki, and his increasing frustration against the other players. He didn't notice Atsushi, who was yawning at greater frequency, and yet still managing to block any shot.

He was only looking at Tetsuya.

After practice, Tetsuya left the gym straightaway, running after Daiki. Daiki had dashed off the moment the whistle blew, signalling the end of practice. Akashi watched Tetsuya go. Seeing him move away from him immediately brought back all his restlessness. The feeling crashed down on him like a swift, destructive wave.

Akashi went straight home. He took a deliberately long shower, letting the water run over his body. He felt every drop acutely in his increasing anticipation and impatience. He loved the mounting torture, the torture of waiting, waiting, waiting, and then. Release.

The subsequent comforting relief.

After the shower he walked at a deliberately slow pace towards the couch. He inserted the DVD of last year's national championship match into his player with gradual heavy movements. As the DVD whizzed into the machine with a buzz, Akashi closed his eyes. He was holding his breath. The torturous feeling of waiting, of drawing this out was reaching its climax.

The DVD player whirred. After a moment, cheers from students emitted from the speakers. The screen flickered, then remained bright.

Akashi opened his eyes. He let out the breath he was holding in a small whoosh. He focused his gaze onto the screen. All his intensity and concentration was on the video. His eyes raked over every movement Tetsuya made, although Tetsuya was only sitting on the bench. Even on the television screen, his resoluteness and determination were clear to Akashi's eyes.

Akashi let out a small sigh of relief. He leaned back comfortably on his couch.

He was prepared to re-watch this video, as many times as it took. As many times as it took to abate the restlessness within him.

The moth fluttered weakly in the jar.

* * *

The fire was in front of him again.

Akashi was growing used to seeing it. It was inching ever so slowly towards him. Burning, smouldering, licking as the tongues of fire crept nearer and nearer to him. Akashi could almost feel the heat against his face. That heat. That warmth. Akashi wanted it. He desired for it to consume him. He desired to stroke and caress the flames.

_Once I control the fire, I can control the shadows._

He extended his hand towards the mocking flames. The fire taunted him, danced away from his outstretched fingers. Even though he thought he was already near enough to touch it. This always happened.

But this was still alright. Because it was still moving towards him. It was inevitable. It would reach him, and then. He could finally, finally let the flames devour him, like he wanted them to, so, so much-

Akashi woke up.

His heart was beating its erratic rhythm again. A thin layer of sweat coated his neck, his forehead and his palms. He was used to this discomfort. The dream had already happened too many times.

He sat up, and swiftly got out of his bed. As he dressed for school, he glanced at the moth on the wooden table. He paused in his act of buttoning his collared school shirt.

It's time to change the jar again.

Leaving a few buttons undone, he strode towards a cupboard, and took out a small glass jar. Then he walked towards the jar containing the moth. He slowly uncapped it. Soft squeaking sounds resounded in the silent room. Once unscrewed, he put the other jar over the mouth. He turned both jars upside down and shook them, one hard shake. The moth immediately fell into the smaller jar.

He took away the larger jar. Then he slowly screwed the cap onto the smaller jar. The moth was unmoving, still shocked from the earlier sudden movement. He lifted the jar to his ear.

After several seconds, the moth stirred. It started fluttering again. Its wings beat against the tight constraints of the small jar. Without much space to move anywhere, it merely hovered in its containment, brushing against the glass walls softly and gently.

Akashi smiled as he heard the soft beating of its wings. The jar was still pressed against his ear.

Several weeks had already passed since he first caught the moth, and had that dream. Throughout it all, he constantly felt that familiar feeling of restlessness. He sensed that his basketball team was changing. Murasakibara snapped at Midorima, who snapped at Daiki, who was hardly ever at practice. When he was, though, he shouted at Ryouta, who merely fell silent, and walked away. Away from everyone.

Somehow, this didn't bother Akashi that much. He was concerned, of course. That was his duty and responsibility as captain. He was slightly worried it would affect Teikou's chances for certain victory. But he was far more concerned with observing Tetsuya. In these recent weeks, Tetsuya constantly wore an expression of confusion. Akashi liked to look at his expression. He liked to look at everything Tetsuya did. He was...fascinating.

He listened to the moth for several long moments. Then he placed the jar down and continued dressing for school.

School passed by like a haze to Akashi that day. He wasn't concentrating on his classes. He was envisioning the previous year's championship match in his mind. It replayed in his mind with perfect clarity.

He had watched it enough, to know the exact sequence of events that transpired during that match.

Basketball practice came without ado. He entered the gym to see Daiki steadily getting more and more frustrated with another player. He didn't care about that. He cast his gaze around the gym, looking for Tetsuya. Tetsuya was worriedly watching Daiki, looking as though he wanted to intervene. There was a slight furrow in his eyebrows.

Akashi gazed at that furrow, fascinated with it. Tetsuya, he thought. You are always so concerned about others. Always so worried. How can you be? People wouldn't concern me unless victory is involved.

He continued observing Tetsuya, until Daiki suddenly exploded in anger. The words he spoke sounded like a blur to Akashi. He was still watching Tetsuya too closely to pay any attention. Daiki stomped out of the gym.

Tetsuya immediately went towards Akashi. "Akashi-kun," he said, urgently. The furrow in his eyebrows had become more pronounced. But even more than that, there was an urgency in his eyes. The determination Akashi was so fascinated with was etched on his face.

Akashi nodded at Tetsuya, eyes raking over his face. Drinking in the determined look. Carving it into his mind. "Yes, Tetsuya," he said, concern laden in his tone. His voice sounded distant to him, as though spoken by another person. "Go look for Daiki and persuade him to come back."

Tetsuya nodded in response, with great urgency. He turned around, and ran out of the gym. Akashi watched him leave. A sense of marvel was rising within him.

_Tetsuya, your obedience to me...it brings me such..._ Akashi's fingers twitched. He wanted to clench them. _It brings me such pleasure._

He sighed quietly. _Keep obeying me, Tetsuya. Obey me with that determined look on your face. Obey me although your thoughts and ideals are so fundamentally opposed to mine. Keep listening to me, although both you and I know you are wrong-_

_No_. Akashi blinked as his thoughts interrupted his thoughts. He sighed pleasurably again, this time a little louder. _Obey me, but also oppose me, Tetsuya. Argue against me with that look in your eyes. And then listen to me. And then argue with me again. I want us to keep intertwining our minds in this way. In a push and pull motion._

He closed his eyes. _Push and pull, Tetsuya. Obey and disobey. That is what I want. What I desire._ He felt a sudden ravenous hunger to follow Tetsuya.

Coach Sanada was saying something. Akashi didn't pay much attention. His eyes were still closed, he was immersed in his thoughts. Replaying Tetsuya's match. Envisioning Tetsuya's look. Tetsuya's expression. Tetsuya's movements. He didn't know how many minutes passed as he delved deep into his mind.

It felt like he had a conversation with Ryouta and Shintarou about Coach Sanada's words. It felt like another person was having that conversation with them. He was still seeing Tetsuya in his mind. Everything felt distant to him, almost like a forgotten memory. But this wasn't a memory. This was the present. He just wasn't present.

"Hm, about that...hey, Aka-chin."

A call from Atsushi stirred Akashi from his ruminations. Suddenly he was present again. Fully present. He turned to look at Atsushi. Atsushi was looking at him with defiance. But his expression didn't register on Akashi. The only defiance he was concerned with...was Tetsuya's.

"What is it, Atsushi," he said.

Atsushi looked at him with insolence for a moment. Then he opened his mouth to speak.

* * *

The sky was black. Dark rain clouds formed a thick layer, obscuring any brilliant blue hue it may have had. Rain fell torrentially, forming a grey film that blurred and faded in and out like a haze.

It poured down on the ceiling of Akashi's black limousine, making chaotic pattering sounds. The rain sounded like an orchestra gone wild, the timpani and percussions making erratic drumming echoes. The metal ceiling vibrated with the force of the rain.

Akashi wasn't paying any attention to the auditory havoc. The conversation he had just had with Tetsuya after the short match with Atsushi excited him. His eyes were closed. He was replaying the conversation in his mind.

_'Akashi...kun?_

It was making his heart beat quickly and the little hairs on his skin rise, forming goosebumps.

_'What are you saying?'_

It was making the blood rush to his ears, to his limbs, bathing him in warmth.

_'Who...who are you?'_

It was making his breathing quicken, and his legs weak.

The feeling that was coming over him was stronger than he had ever felt before. He basked in that feeling, the feeling of restlessness, the feeling of lack of control, the feeling of unreleased frustration. It was making his throat close out of the sheer torture. But within that torture, Akashi felt pure, unadulterated ecstasy.

He had to get home. Now. Quickly.

He opened his eyes. Glaring at the driver of his limousine, he said with a steely tone, "Drive faster."

"Yes, Akashi-sama."

The time seemed to tick by slowly to Akashi. He felt the passing of every second. And then, finally, he reached home. He took slow, sedate steps towards his bedroom. He merely nodded out of reflex to acknowledge the greetings of his household staff.

The restlessness was steadily mounting within him.

When he reached his room at last, he walked towards the jar containing the moth. He unscrewed the cap, slowly, with precision. The moth fluttered its wings more quickly, as though in greeting.

Once the cap was unscrewed, he picked up the moth with his left hand, with gentle fingers. The moth became still. His left hand held it in position as he looked at it intensely. It remained unmoving.

The restlessness within Akashi was rising so quickly it was about to reach its climax.

After several seconds of looking at the moth, he lifted his right hand, and moved it towards the insect. Slowly, leisurely, he pinched the corner of one of its wings. The moth's legs twitched, scratching at the palm of his left hand. With careful movements, he peeled at the wing. The moth's legs were scratching at his palm with increasing speed.

The corner of the wing tore off smoothly, because Akashi was doing it so slowly. Holding the moth with his left hand – its legs had stopped moving – he held up the piece of the wing to his eyes. He looked at it for several long moments, inspecting it with great care.

The moth was now unmoving in his left hand.

Akashi placed the insect back into the jar, and screwed the cap back on. It started moving only one of its wings, obviously the undisturbed one. It couldn't hover anymore, but since it was so large, one of its wings still beat against the wall of the jar.

Akashi threw the piece away.

All of his actions had the effect of calming his restlessness down, slightly. Akashi let out a sigh of relief. The restlessness had finally stopped ballooning within him. But it was still prodding at him, throbbing within him.

So Akashi went towards his DVD player, and pressed play. The disc of Tetsuya's match was still in there. It had remained in there since the first time. It would have been troublesome to keep reinserting it every time he wanted to watch it. He moved towards his couch, and leaned back as the player started whirring and the video came on.

He watched it calmly. And then he watched it again. And again. And again.

His eyes were glued to the television set. He didn't know where his reality and the television reality of the match began or ended. His mind was completely absorbed, completely consumed. He couldn't take his eyes off Tetsuya.

He was going to press the play button again, when suddenly the screen went black. The player let out a loud buzz, which was extended for a second, then stopped abruptly.

Akashi's eyes widened. He remained sitting on the couch for a moment. Then he got up, and moved towards the machine. He pressed the play button with one slim finger.

Nothing happened.

A sudden rage swept over Akashi. He pulled back his arm, wanting to punch the machine. But just as his fist was about to make contact with it, he stopped. His self-control had kicked in.

_No_, he told himself. _That would be an extremely illogical, and ridiculous action._

His hand dropped to his side. He remained crouched by the player, for a long, long time.

* * *

Several months later, after the championship match with Meikou. April, Kyoto.

It was the start of the school day. Akashi was on his way to Rakuzan High. It had already been three weeks since he started attending the prestigious school.

Three weeks. Twenty-one days. And yet, despite the bustle of the new school year, Akashi still couldn't shake off from his mind the final conversation he had had with Tetsuya.

Tetsuya had wanted to quit basketball.

Akashi remembered what he did after he found out about that. He had gone home, and then walked straight to the moth within the jar. He had picked up the jar, and looked at it. And then, he had shaken it. Not just once. Not just twice. He had shaken it many, many times. The moth followed the rapid up and down movements. It was pathetic, now that it had lost the function of one wing.

After shaking it, Akashi had abruptly stopped. The moth had twitched its legs, still clinging on to its desperate life on the floor of the jar. Akashi had then unscrewed the cap of the jar, and inserted his fingers into the opening.

Anger had been festering poisonously within him, wracking him in the insides. He had felt the sudden desire to rip the moth into pieces. That action would have appeased his anger, he knew it.

But just before his fingers touched the moth, he had paused. He thought of Tetsuya.

_Tetsuya is stronger than that. That is what makes him so...interesting. He would never let this one match affect him to the point of quitting a sport he loves._

At this realisation, Akashi had pulled out his fingers from the jar, and screwed the cap back on again. He had placed the jar carelessly back on the table, and gone to take a shower. He didn't think about how the moth looked, jerking its legs feebly in the transparent jar.

Sure enough, merely a short period after that, he had another conversation with Tetsuya. Tetsuya was going to return to basketball after all. But that wasn't the interesting bit. The interesting part, was what Tetsuya had said.

_'I won't run away anymore.'_

That sentence filled Akashi with a euphoria so strong, it made his pulse quicken and his breaths shorten at an exquisite pace. It would be so interesting to fight with Tetsuya. But amidst that euphoria, Akashi felt the usual restlessness that came whenever he thought of Tetsuya. And he felt frustrated. He was frustrated because Tetsuya no longer listened to him. He was now in constant defiance and opposition.

_Our push and pull dynamic has disappeared, Tetsuya. That enticing, breathtaking, magnificent connection we had. It made us so close. It made us so different. It made us so...intimate._

Akashi sighed as he walked through the gates into the Rakuzan school grounds. _I will not be able to find anything like that with any other person again, Tetsuya. Why did you have to ruin us like that?_

Although Tetsuya's words had excited him greatly, the frustration and anger at losing that deep intimacy had made him go to the moth again after school that day. However, just as he shook the jar and unscrewed the cap, he glanced at the insect. It was still, and unmoving.

It was dead.

So Akashi didn't even have the moth to assuage his restless emotions. Nevertheless, Akashi soon had to prepare for Rakuzan and his move to Kyoto. He busied himself with the inane preparations and arrangements. Throughout all the mundane tasks, Akashi thought of Tetsuya. His words resounded in his mind. He could hear every conversation he had had with Tetsuya. He could see Tetsuya's look of determination, with every turn of his head. He could see all of Tetsuya's matches, his shadow passes. He could see that first match which excited him, now deeply imprinted in his mind.

All of that replayed and resounded in his mind constantly, like buzzing flies.

The school day went by without ado. Then it was time for basketball practice. Akashi was already captain of the team. It was part of the arrangement when he chose to attend Rakuzan.

As the undeniable best player on the team, he split his time between observing the players and practising his core skills. He thought Kotarou, Eikichi and Reo were...adequate. At the very least, his current team would be able to triumph over his former basketball colleagues without a doubt.

_But I won't have Tetsuya and his exceptional passes in the shadows._

He walked over to the third-stringers. He couldn't help scoffing as he observed them.

_Pathetic_. He watched one of the players perform a jump shot. The ball fell through the hoop, but it had brushed against the rim. _Truly pathetic._

He continued walking by the side of the courts, eyes raking over each player's movements. With every player he laid eyes on, he felt a mounting sense of frustration.

_Will my high school basketball be this dull? Will I not find that exquisite harmony- disharmony ever again?_

He fought off a sigh, then turned his head arbitrarily. His eyes fell on a grey-haired boy, doing stamina drills.

Suddenly, he saw an image of Tetsuya, panting hard and sweating profusely.

The image disappeared. It had only lasted a second. He saw the grey-haired boy again. He was doing his stamina drills at a very good pace. But it was nothing compared to what Akashi was used to.

Nevertheless, the boy had incited something within Akashi. He was intrigued, captivated. A strange, intimate form of curiosity, Akashi said to himself in his mind.

He spent the rest of practice watching the boy. With every passing minute, Akashi felt his excitement compound. His breathing was starting to quicken imperceptibly. He was blinking at a slower rate – he didn't want to miss a single microsecond of looking at the boy. His palms were getting increasingly sweaty.

The boy had a hint of arrogance in his visage. He moved as though he thought no one should cross him. Nothing like Tetsuya.

_And yet. What is this..._ Akashi sighed. He placed a hand over his chest. _What is this...feeling?_

His heart pounded in his chest beneath his hand.

Akashi followed the boy everywhere he went. Even after practice, when he went into the changing rooms. Even as he walked out of the school grounds. Akashi just couldn't get enough of that feeling. That emotion, whenever he looked at the boy, and observed his every movement.

He spent the next two weeks discreetly watching the boy.

But then, the boy soon quit basketball. Akashi had gone into practice one day, and the boy was nowhere to be found. He immediately quashed the rising anger, in favour of a more logical solution.

He knew where the boy would be. So he merely went to the rooftop, and he spoke to the boy.

Gratitude. Dependence.

Weakness.

Akashi smiled. "Mayuzumi Chihiro. I will teach you everything I know about the phantom sixth man of Teikou."

* * *

Mayuzumi Chihiro was prideful.

He was defiant. He was sarcastic.

He was hardworking. He was dedicated, determined and committed. He was devoted to basketball.

All of that evoked a familiar feeling within Akashi, one that he felt constantly.

All of that made Akashi feel an overpowering sense of restlessness, only ever resolved when he looked at Chihiro, when he talked to Chihiro. When Chihiro returned his words with sarcasm and defiance.

Push and pull. Obey and disobey.

* * *

Akashi dreamt of the fire again.

Its fiery tendrils were right in front of him, less than a foot away from his face. He could feel its scorching heat, burning and blistering away. His skin was so near the heat. He could feel every bead of sweat oozing out from his pores.

But the flames were near enough. They were reachable.

The tongues of fire danced mockingly in front of Akashi, tauntingly in front of him.

But Akashi merely smiled. The fire was already within his grasp.

He reached out a hand, and plunged it into the flames. The tongues of fire licked at his skin, burning it, scalding it. The first layer of his skin peeled off. Pain shot through his hand, starting from his fingertips and slinking right through his whole body.

Akashi closed his eyes, and breathed deeply. Basking in ecstasy.

* * *

Note**: **If you found Akashi weird here, you'll find him even weirder in the next chapter. Just a fair warning. XD


	2. Chapter 2

The training room was one of the smaller ones in Rakuzan. It was filled with broken backboards, neon-coloured plastic cones and misshapen basketballs. Amidst the defective equipment, there were large containers filled with inflated basketballs and a hoop stood tall and imposing. It towered over two boys, one red-haired and the other grey-haired, sitting on one of the benches in the side of the room having a discussion. Beside them was a pile of books and a stack of DVDs. All of them with the words 'misdirection' and 'illusory tricks' printed on them.

Akashi was looking at Chihiro with a smile. "'Reality is merely an illusion, although a very persistent one'," he said, calmly and serenely.

He paused for a moment. Chihiro merely continued looking at Akashi. He didn't twitch a single facial muscle.

"Albert Einstein, Chihiro," Akashi went on. He lifted a hand as he spoke. "He theorised that we only hold fast what we understand and perceive about the world, although it may not be the true reality. Our minds are, in fact, not capable of understanding reality in its true form. That is the nature of being human, of being flawed and imperfect the way only humans can be. Our minds are so fallible, so incapable of understanding reality's true nature. Human awareness has so many limitations. Our perception, so full of boundaries."

"Get to the point, Akashi," interjected Chihiro dryly. "What does quantum physics have to do with anything I'm learning now. I thought this was a misdirection lesson." He smirked. "Magic tricks, not science."

Akashi's smile broadened. "I'm merely setting the context for what you are learning." So impatient, Chihiro. A sharp thrill ran through Akashi.

Outwardly, he remained composed. "Misdirection is based on manipulating people's attention. You have to practise a 'double vision'."

Chihiro's lips twitched.

"One of the visions is a wider perception of reality," Akashi went on, lifting a finger. "The reality only you, as the inflictor, know." He lifted a second finger. "The second is a narrower perception. The perception of the receiver of your misdirection. And this is where quantum physics comes in." Akashi's smile broadened. "Quantum physics helps you understand that all human perception is flawed. Exploit this weakness. Once you have formed an acute awareness of practising a 'double vision', you will be able to manipulate people's flawed perception of reality, thus mastering misdirection."

Chihiro let out a snort. "'Double vision'?" he said derisively. "We aren't in one of my science fiction light novels, Akashi." He threw a disdainful look at him. "And you're needlessly complicating things by including quantum physics into this lesson."

He stood up from where he was sitting on the bench listening to Akashi. "Stop joking around with all this 'double vision' crap. Don't tell me the phantom sixth man soaked up all this bullshit. I'm not stupid, Akashi."

_Tetsuya_. Akashi's heart leapt at the mention of him. But it was pounding even more at Chihiro's scornful look towards him. Akashi drank in his scorn, greedily.

_So defiant, Chihiro_, he thought.

Then he heard a whisper in his mind, mingling with his thoughts. _Just like Tetsuya._

Akashi curved his lips into a reassuring smile.

_So prideful, Chihiro._

That same whisper came up again. _Unlike Tetsuya._

Akashi lifted a hand to placate Chihiro. "Tetsuya performed all his research independently, Chihiro. I do not know how he felt about it. But I assure you, the 'double vision' is real. It is the crux of misdirection. And besides."

His smile widened. "Duality is nature's constant. One can argue that nature cannot exist without opposing forces. Opposition provides symmetry. It provides harmony. There is always a balance, Chihiro. There's always a dichotomy. Day and night. The sun and the moon. Darkness and light."

Akashi could practically feel every molecule in the air brushing against his skin. "Push and pull."

_Obey and disobey._

Chihiro was silent as Akashi spoke. Then he scoffed and rolled his eyes. "Whatever. As long as I can play basketball my way, I don't care what I have to do to learn that guy's tricks. I'll do things differently from him." He narrowed his eyes at Akashi. "It's already been two weeks since I've joined the team again. The Interhigh's coming up soon. Are you sure I'll be able to learn all this in time? I want to win it, you know."

Akashi smiled reassuringly again. "Yes, don't worry, Chihiro. I want to win as well."

_Winning is much more important to me than you can ever imagine. It's part of who I am. It makes me feel...powerful._

Suddenly, Akashi remembered how he had finally been able to touch the flames in his dreams. His heart leapt in his chest. The sensations he had felt tingled all over his body. The intense pain. So real although it had been in a dream. It had induced so much euphoria within him. So much happiness.

_Once I can touch the flames, I can control them._

Chihiro walked towards the stack of books on misdirection and picked one book up. He opened it, and flipped through it. Akashi's eyes followed him, his gaze pinned on Chihiro's every movement.

_Once I can control the flames, I can control the shadows._

Chihiro's lips were twitching as he looked through the book. He turned to Akashi, and gestured at it. "Can you believe the shit some amateur magicians go through to master this art? It's worse than even the most pathetic characters I've read in my light novels."

Akashi merely continued watching Chihiro. His breath hitched in his throat. His heart was pounding within him. Blood was rushing to his ears. He wanted to run his fingers over his arms, over his neck, over his every limb.

_Fire, intensely hot and blistering, burning, burning so brightly, so fervently–_

Chihiro let out a soft groan, still looking at the book. He glanced at Akashi again, looking slightly irritated. "It says here that in order to practise some forms of misdirection, I'll have to talk to people." He sighed. "I don't really want to go up to random strangers." He turned back to the book.

Akashi's hands twitched. He wanted to skim his fingers, his hands all over himself, all over his body, all over his very sou–

_–heat, scalding heat, so agonising, so sublime in its fiery intensity–_

Chihiro snorted. "Did the phantom sixth man really do all this? It seems very far-fetched."

Akashi's hands were twitching, jerking, he desired to scratch his skin with his bare fingernails–

_–incandescent tongues of fire, orange, leaping, burning caustically, corroding the top layer of his skin–_

Akashi sucked in a sharp breath. Chihiro whipped his head round to look at him, eyebrows raised. Akashi maintained his silence and external composure as the boy looked at him questioningly. His heart was still pounding hard within him, rousing up a cacophony in his ears. He had to calm down. He had to force serenity back into his voice, into his physiology.

Once he felt in control of himself, he said, "All of these measures are necessary for you to master the skill, Chihiro. They are unavoidable." His voice sounded unruffled. Unlike the senses in his body which still refused to calm down.

He turned away from Chihiro and strode towards the container containing many inflated basketballs. He picked up one of them, then walked back to Chihiro.

"Let's practise your 'tap' pass," he said to him. Heart pounding. Breath shortening. Goosebumps forming. Blood rushing.

Chihiro nodded, and cracked a smirk. "As you command, Your Highness," he said dryly.

_As you command, Your Highness_, repeated a cold whisper in Akashi's mind.

Obey and disobey.

* * *

Akashi opened his eyes. It was a futile effort.

His surroundings were dark, completely dark. Pitch black. Akashi's lips curved into a smile as a thought popped into his head. "'Stars, hide your fires; let not light see my black and deep desires'," he said out loud, quoting Shakespeare's 'Macbeth'. He let out a short bark of laughter.

It was at this point that he suddenly realised he was in the flames. The familiar flames, every tongue greeting him like an old friend.

An intense pain shot through him, over his entire body, reaching out into every nerve, into every limb. It was excruciating. It was agonising. He looked down, and saw that the first layer of his skin had already been seared off. Revealing his pink flesh and muscles. The colour complemented the red-orange of the flames.

The flames weren't going to stop there though. They were still licking at him, trying to take more of him, more of his flesh and body. The pain was in his every nerve. It was a constant presence, that pain. Wracking his whole body, trying to take him and his mind down just like the flames were trying to take his body. It was so hot in the fire, it was scorching, but Akashi didn't feel the warmth.

He was only feeling pain. Pain. Stinging blistering pain. It was agony, as every cell slipped off Akashi, layer by layer, immediately turning into dust in the scorching heat. The pain pierced into his mind, into his every conscious thought, every subconscious thought. His vision was fading in and out, he was seeing white flashes. Akashi opened his mouth. He felt the heat against his lips in the movement. He wondered if he was even breathing, so acute and profound was the pain. It was consuming him, trying to take down his consciousness, trying to make him delirious.

_This is what I wanted._ Akashi sensed his lips moving with the thought. The pain was forcing at his vocal chords, burning at it like the flames, trying to make him scream.

Akashi wanted to scream. He wanted to his voice to reach into the farthest corners of this universe, in fruitless effort to let the pain slip out with his scream. The pain was so much, so, so much. He was starting to feel his throat straining at the effort to not scream. His throat, his head, his mind– all of them splitting open in sheer agony. He wanted to twist every muscle, break every limb, in the hope that the other pain could somehow make this burning pain go away.

But it was pure bliss!

Akashi wanted to laug- _scream_– laugh. He was still in control of everything, in spite of the agony. He saw red molecules of his blood evaporating immediately as his skin peeled off. He wanted to smile. He wanted to bare his teeth to the mocking flames.

Through the flames, he suddenly saw figures on either side of him. They were unrecognisable in the darkness, or perhaps in Akashi's current state of harrowing agony. Yet, Akashi knew instinctively who they were.

Tetsuya. Chihiro.

Akashi felt his lips turn upwards–_ the fire still lapping at him, eroding his skin_– in greeting. He reached out a hand through the flames.

_Come here_, he thought, in between bouts of agony and blistering torture. _I want the fire to burn you too. I want you to feel the same agony I am feeling. I want you to feel this with me. _

Akashi knew what would happen if they did. _I want us to reach the high point of ecstasy and heavenly bliss together. All of us reaching the climax of pain and pleasure, achieving paradise. Feeling the power of the flames together, and its all-consuming nature._

He saw the muscles in his outstretched hand blister away in the fire. Felt the searing pain as the flesh was sloughed off in the flames. Saw white spots in his vision, his mind splitting, cleaving, breaking open in the sheer torment–

_I want my flesh to burn but not my soul. And I want your essence to burn, but not your flesh. Because once your flesh burns, there will be nothing, not even a shell for me to exploit, to control, and to manipulat–_

Akashi's eyes flew open.

He was breathing hard, harder than he ever had before. His entire body was drenched in sweat. His heart was beating quickly, quicker than it ever had before. Akashi swallowed. He lifted his forearm and placed it over his mouth. His breath left a warm moisture on the surface of his skin.

He was trying to force calmness back into his body. He closed his eyes, willing his breathing to return to a normal pace. He could still feel a tingling sensation in his body, remnants from the dream.

_The dream is becoming more vivid_, he thought. He frowned.

After several minutes of lying on the bed, a sense of calmness returned to him. He threw the covers off his body and strode straight to the showers. He turned the temperature of the water to maximum coldness and minimum heat.

The cold water did some good. After a while, he felt like he could sense everything in this reality again. He had been feeling like he was outside himself, watching himself in this reality.

He had been feeling like half of him had remained in the dream.

He dressed himself and ate his breakfast, going through the routine mechanically. Then he went to school, and sat through his classes like the perfect model student he was. His exterior revealed nothing of the night he had experienced before. His face remained smoothly inscrutable, his smile, charming as always.

A short while later it was time for basketball practice.

At the thought, his stomach lurched and his heart leapt. As he picked up his schoolbag and walked deliberately slowly towards the gym, his pulse quickened. His breaths were getting shorter and shorter. Sparks of excitement pricked him, like sharp needles.

_I will see Chihiro soon_, he thought. _Listen to his sarcasm, and his defiance. Watch him as he fights for his pride._

His heart was slamming in his chest. He felt like each beat was augmenting his excitement, making his skin tingle.

Tingle like it's being burned again.

When he arrived at the gym at last, practice had already started. The players were performing their warm-ups, doing their stamina drills. Akashi cast a glance around the gym and spotted Chihiro practising a formation with Kotarou, Eikichi and Reo. His lips curved upwards into a smile.

His fingers twitched. _Want to run them ove–_

_–tongues of scorching fire licking at hi–_

_Chihiro is over there_, Akashi told himself. He walked over to the group, and slowly sat down on a bench by the side of the court. He wanted to observe them. He focused his gaze on Chihiro, intensely, piercingly.

Chihiro was leaning down, his hands on his knees. He was panting, and sweating hard. Akashi could see every bead of perspiration fall from his neck onto the court floor. Each droplet left little polka-dots on the floor, dark marks forming an unidentifiable pattern.

"What the fuck," Eikichi was saying to him harshly. "Can't you even do a simple formation without losing energy and sweating so much? How weak are you?"

Chihiro looked up at Eikichi to glare at him. A thrill ran across Akashi's spine at his look.

So defiant, Chihiro.

"Ei-chan's right," said Kotarou, sneering at Chihiro. "You're going to be absolutely useless even with misdirection if you can't keep up with our regular practice."

"You guys are sweating, too," Chihiro retorted, turning to glare at Kotarou. "And with misdirection, I hopefully won't spend too much energy trying to get away from opponents."

Akashi's fingers twitched again as he heard the disdain in Chihiro's tone.

So prideful, Chihiro.

"You still have to make sure you have enough energy to play the whole game," Reo spoke up with a frown. His hands were on his hips as he looked at Chihiro.

Chihiro turned his glare on Reo. He straightened up, then turned around. "Whatever. I'll make sure I'll have the stamina by the Interhigh. You can count on it, okay? So stop harping on this."

He started walking away.

Kotarou stomped his foot and called after him, "Hey, where are you going? We're not done yet!"

"Getting a drink of water," replied Chihiro. Akashi saw that he then muttered to himself, "Idiot." At this, Akashi's stomach lurched.

"Just make sure you come back quickly, we have to continue practising this formation," Eikichi called after him. He turned back to the others. "Let's just try practising the other formation while he's gone..."

Akashi stood up. He grabbed one of the many water bottles littered by the benches and followed Chihiro out of the courts. Chihiro had walked to a vending machine outside the Rakuzan gym, and was about to insert a few coins into it.

Akashi fixed an immaculate smile on his face, and strode up to Chihiro. He tapped him on the arm, then held out the bottle. "Here. I brought a bottle of water for you, Chihiro."

Chihiro paused in his movements and turned to look at Akashi. His eyebrows were slightly raised. He swept his gaze over Akashi, who was still smiling and holding out the bottle, then said, "Thanks."

He took the bottle and uncapped it. As he tilted his head, gulping down large sips of water, Akashi watched his sweat continue to drip down to the floor. He watched as Chihiro's sweat formed dark marks on his jersey, concentrating around the area around his armpits and chest.

Akashi cleared his throat. "How are you finding practice with nationally ranked players like the Uncrowned Kings, Chihiro?" His voice sounded pleasant, conversational.

Even though he wanted to swallow himself as he watched Chihiro gulp down water.

Chihiro removed the bottle from his mouth to look incredulously at Akashi, then scoffed. "They're completely full of themselves, alright. They think they're so good in basketball." He ran the back of his hand over his mouth.

Akashi broadened his smile. "They certainly are good, though. I wouldn't accept anything other than the best."

"Yeah, of course." Chihiro rolled his eyes. "Because you're a 'prince' who always gets what he wants." He smirked wryly.

The tingle slinked over Akashi's spine once again. He could hear his heart beating. Keep doing this, Chihiro, he heard the cold whisper in his mind.

He broadened his smile in response, then said, "I hope you can deliver what I want as well, Chihiro. You need to master misdirection and improve your core basketball skills by the Interhigh."

"Yeah, yeah, stop nagging me," replied Chihiro. He looked like he was fighting the urge to roll his eyes again. "I'm already practising misdirection so religiously. Been doing that for over a month now. Sheesh..."

A rush of excitement went through Akashi at his exasperated tone. Keep, keep doing this, Chihiro, the voice whispered again, cold as ice.

"Nevertheless, I would like to see your improvement with my own eyes," Akashi said smoothly. "We should have a one-on-one together, shortly before the Interhigh."

"You just can't trust me, can't you," said Chihiro, glaring at Akashi. "Fine. We'll have that match. Just tell me when the time comes." He handed the bottle back to Akashi. "Here. I have to get back to the Uncrowned Kings of giant egos."

Akashi took the bottle. Chihiro turned around, and strode towards the gym. Akashi continued looking at him as his back retreated from him. He felt the prickling sensations within his body, the mounting excitement, the frenzy and the elation spreading, spreading within him like...like–

_Wildfire_, thought Akashi. He watched as Chihiro turned, and disappeared into the gym.

Akashi released a breath he hadn't realised he had been holding, and closed his eyes.

_Keep doing this to me, Chihiro_, he thought in that chill whisper. _Keep showing me that sarcasm, that defiance. That determination. That pride._

He sucked in a sharp breath. His hands were shaking slightly, the hand holding the water bottle fingering every contour of its plastic surface.

_Show me that pride with every action you do. Demonstrate to me how it motivates your every move, your every word. Let me watch you as you keep fighting, struggling, for your pride. And then._

He released the breath, slowly.

_Let me break your pride. Let me shatter it to pieces, into smithereens. Let me leave your pride broken and mangled–_

_–why? _

Another thought had arisen within his mind. It sounded different from that icy whisper. With his eyes closed, Akashi could feel the silence in the corridor, pressing down on him. Silence always had a sound, and it filled Akashi's ears, seeping into his mind.

_I just need to_, he said to himself. _I just want to–_

"Break him." Akashi's eyes flew open. He had said those words out loud, unknowingly, unconsciously. He frowned at himself. After a while, the frown smoothened.

_And then, once I've done that..._

Akashi felt his breathing return to normal.

.._.I want to watch you struggle to rise against me again. See if you are capable of doing that._

He nodded to himself, unconsciously. Then he slowly uncapped the bottle he had been holding. He took a large sip from the bottle, and swallowed the gulp. The water slowly ran down his throat.

Push and pull, Chihiro. Obey and disobey. One cannot exist without the other.

* * *

Water blasted down on Akashi from the shower, an intense jet spraying onto his head. His eyes were closed and his mouth slightly open. The water ran down his face, his neck, his chest, his body, pooling at his feet, forming puddles that moved like the tides.

Akashi wasn't feeling the pressure, or the tickling sensation of the water running down his back. He was deep in his thoughts.

_Seven days until the Interhigh_, he told himself. _One week until I fight with my former basketball colleagues._ He smiled to himself. _My victory is certain. _

His smile wavered. _Father will be proud of me once I win this._ He thought of his father back in Tokyo for a few moments.

Then another thought struck him. All thoughts of his father flew out of his mind. _Tetsuya lost before he could even participate in the actual Interhigh._ A sudden anger swept over him, and his hands curled into fists. _All because he joined a weak school such as Seirin. How pathetic, Tetsuya._

His hands trembled slightly, streaks of water running over tightly clenched fingers. He lifted one of them, and turned the temperature up. Hot water gushed out, but Akashi barely felt the warmth. _How can you possibly be so naive, Tetsuya? Thinking you could fight me with such a weak school. You couldn't even make it into the actual competition. Because of your stupidity, I couldn't experience competing against you, Tetsuya. I couldn't see your determined look again._

A deep frown formed on his face, and his teeth clenched. Then his eyes flew open in sudden realisation. His hands slackened.

_This is fine, though._ Water pooled in his eyes, causing a stinging sensation. Akashi ignored it. _I have Chihiro now. _His lips curved upwards in a smile once again. He reached out, and turned the tap, emitting a squeaking sound. The jet of water stopped, enveloping the bathroom in a sudden silence.

Akashi grabbed a towel, and flung it over his head. As he wiped his hair, he thought, _Chihiro is better, Chihiro is prideful. _Akashi felt his smile widen. He pushed open the door to the shower, and walked out, stepping onto the bathroom tiles. _Chihiro is more dominant than Tetsuya, stronger than Tetsuya. He is more...interesting. More fascinating to prod and play with._

Akashi continued wiping his hair vigorously. _Tetsuya and Chihiro._ He stopped wiping his hair, and moved to rub the towel over his body. _Why are you both so interesting? Far more interesting than any of my Miracles colleagues, or any of the Uncrowned Kings. You are both so complex._

He stopped wiping his body, and threw the towel into a laundry basket. He pulled his uniform off the hanger, and started to wear it. _You are both so weak._ He started buttoning his school shirt. _You both have no skill._ He pulled on his school slacks. _You both have no special abilities. _He grabbed his school tie, tucked it into his pocket, then pulled the door of the bathroom open.

_And yet._ He strode towards the table in his room with breakfast already prepared. _And yet you both can keep fighting like this. _He pulled the chair open, and sat down. As he picked up his chopsticks, he thought, _How can you both remain so determined when you are so weak?_

He smiled as he picked up a piece of mushroom. _It is just...so beautiful. You both have such an interesting, intriguing...reaction to me. To my provocation. _The mushroom seemed tasteless to his tongue.

Breakfast ended swiftly and then it was time for school. Akashi went through classes as though in a delirium. He was looking forward, so looking forward to later. His lips were twitching, itching to form a smile.

The one-on-one match with Chihiro was scheduled for later. Akashi couldn't wait for it. Anticipation was rising quickly within him.

A few hours later and Akashi was striding purposefully to one of the private courts in the gym. He emanated a wave of authority which drowned out his tics of excitement: fingertips brushing over knuckles, tongue licking his lips, blood rushing to his head.

In the court, Chihiro and the Uncrowned Kings were waiting for him. Eikichi, Reo and Kotarou together on one side, and Chihiro on the other. He looked resolutely disdainful and arrogant like he usually did. The moment Akashi saw Chihiro, a shiver passed through his spine, through his veins, through his heart.

_Oh, Chihiro. You always look so prideful._

Once he saw his teammates, he quirked a charismatic smile. He stood in front of them, erect and upright, exuding leadership. Spreading out his arms in an open gesture, he said, "So. The Interhigh is next week." He narrowed his eyes, though his smile was still fixed on his face. "Is everyone prepared."

It was a question that demanded only one form of answer.

Kotarou bounced up and down where he sat. "Yeah, we are, Akashi!" He smiled devilishly. "No one's gonna be able to beat us."

"My muscles have developed enough strength," said Eikichi, patting a bicep. He grinned confidently as well. "I'll be able to overpower any other Centre for sure, no matter how tough they are. Maybe even put up a good fight against your Miracle guy, Murasakibara."

"We're all good, Sei-chan," Reo spoke up, smiling gently at Akashi. He glanced at Chihiro. "Even him. His misdirection has been near-flawless in our practice matches."

Akashi saw Chihiro's lips twitch. He knew the boy wanted to smile at the acknowledgement. Akashi's own smile widened.

_Yes, Chihiro. Keep feeling proud of your basketball. Keep feeling that pride in your accomplishments._

Chihiro said nothing in response to Akashi's question. He merely leant back where he sat, looking expressionless as usual.

Akashi looked carefully at Reo, Kotarou and Eikichi with narrowed eyes. Then he said, "Good. I expect an excellent performance from all of you during the competition then." He waited until they all nodded at his words.

Then he went on, "The three of you leave. Join the others on the regular practice session. I need to speak with Chihiro alone."

Sounds of shoes clattering on the floor were heard for a moment as the three Uncrowned Kings stood up and turned to leave. Then a silence fell in the court.

Akashi could hear the silence again. It was ringing in his ears. Ringing as he pinned his gaze onto Chihiro. Chihiro was meeting him eye-to-eye, unflinchingly, and with confidence.

_Yes. Yes. That's what I want._

After a few seconds, Chihiro shrugged, then stood up from where he was sitting. "Let's get this one-on-one match over with, then," he said. "I want to get back to regular practice."

Akashi nodded once. "Yes. Let's do that." His voice sounded brisk to his ears, even though every part of him was shuddering in anticipation.

Chihiro walked over to pick up a basketball, then stood beyond the three-point line, several metres in front of the hoop. His eyes were narrowed. Akashi stood in front of him, and stretched out his arms in a defensive stance. His eyes scanned Chihiro's face in front of him, intensely soaking up the look of tenacity.

_Chihiro, you look so determined. You really think you can play like you normally do against me?_

Suddenly Chihiro threw the ball over Akashi's head towards the hoop. Akashi's attention wavered as his eyes followed the ball, and Chihiro disappeared in front of him. _Oh, Chihiro. Even if your misdirection works on me..._

Chihiro was already with the ball and doing a drive towards the hoop, about to do a simple layup. Akashi turned around, and dashed to where he knew Chihiro would be.

._..I can predict exactly where you will be._

Chihiro's eyes widened as Akashi suddenly appeared by his side. He tried to dribble away but Akashi was too quick, and he stole the ball neatly from Chihiro's possession. Akashi immediately turned around, and dribbled past the three-point line. Chihiro was running after him, desperately trying to catch up to him. But Akashi was faster than him, more agile than him.

In just a few seconds Akashi had cleared the ball from beyond the line, and was doing a drive back towards the hoop. One jump shot later, and Akashi was in the lead.

Chihiro sighed as the ball fell through the hoop and thumped on the ground. He lifted a hand to scratch his head. "Well...I guess I shouldn't have expected to be able make a shot in my first attack." Then he frowned. "But I'm sure I can manage one at least."

Akashi merely smiled in response. _You can hope, Chihiro._

They started playing again. This time, Akashi started the round. Chihiro was desperately trying to defend Akashi, but Akashi was too prognosticative for him. He could predict exactly where Chihiro would try to defend. Exactly where Chihiro would try to run when it was his turn to attack. What offensive move he would use. What shots he would attempt.

The game stretched on, and Akashi didn't know how long it went. All he knew was that with every round of attack that was his turn, he executed his offensive strategy flawlessly. And with every round of attack that was Chihiro's turn, he stole the ball and won more points.

Chihiro was starting to get more desperate. His eyes started taking the look of a wild, uncaged animal, with every second his score remained zero. He was starting to tackle Akashi during defence. He was breathing heavily, panting hard. Perspiration was dripping off him like blood oozing out from a pricked finger.

A wave of delight and elation swept over Akashi, seeing his desperation. _You can hope, but it will be futile. Because no matter how much pride you have, how much effort you pore into your basketball, I will always be better. I will always be able to break your pride. To break you._

The game continued on for so long that Akashi himself started to feel his breath quicken. It was still nothing compared to Chihiro, who was barely able to stand upright in front of him. It was now Chihiro's turn to attack. He was holding the ball with one hand, and wiping off the sweat from his neck with the other. His eyes still held a faint determination.

The usual spark of excitement ran through Akashi._ Let me break you, Chihiro. Let me shatter you into little fragments. Let me make you incomplete._

Suddenly Chihiro tried to execute a desperate drive towards the hoop. The ball was thumping hard on the ground.

_A useless effort, Chihiro. _Akashi almost lazily stretched out his hand, and plucked the ball from Chihiro's grasp. He moved to the three-point line. Before Chihiro could even register that he had lost the ball, Akashi was already in the three-pointer shooting form. Chihiro turned around to look at Akashi just as the ball left his hands.

Akashi caught a glimpse of sheer anguish in Chihiro's eyes as the ball flew in a beautiful arc and went impeccably through the hoop. An overpowering sense of exhilaration came over Akashi. His mind went blank and his vision darkened, narrowing to only one spot. He could only see Chihiro. He could only focus on that look of complete and utter despair and brokenness in Chihiro's eyes.

_I feel...I feel...so–_

"That's enough for today, Chihiro," he said. "You won't be able to make a single shot against me."

_–powerful._

Chihiro merely threw a glare at Akashi. A glare filled with bitterness and disappointment. But deep within the glare was a fire, a look of motivation.

_That's it, Chihiro. Look at me like that even though I've completely crushed your pride to pieces. I need it. It incites such...such pleasure within me. _

"Your performance was satisfactory. Make sure you perform with this adequacy during the Interhigh." Akashi turned around, and started striding out of the gym.

He heard Chihiro scoff behind him. "I am happy to have served Your Highness so 'adequately'." His tone was laden with bitter sarcasm.

Akashi merely smiled.

_I look forward to the time when your eyes are completely dead and you can never look at me like that again. _

* * *

Tongues of fire were lapping at Akashi again.

He could feel the searing pain, so excruciating that his vision went white. His eyes were closed– or were they open? –closed, because of the sheer torture. Layers of his skin, of his flesh were being stripped away, turning into black soot. So many layers already burnt up that his bones were now protruding, looking vermillion in the flames. It felt like every nerve in his body was being crushed and disintegrated, so agonising was the pain. He was writhing about, squirming in the crimson-orange inferno, feeling it blazing and devouring him in its incandescent heat, feeling ecstatic– tormented– euphoric.

But the euphoria was rapidly decaying, slipping away like sand falling through open fingers. Because he was losing, losing control. Why, why was he losing control? He was in the flames. Everything was as he desired, as he predicted. Wasn't it happening just the way he wanted?

But fire was such that it was all-consuming, and Akashi couldn't control it. The tongues licked at him greedily, sneeringly, inflicting pangs of misery and torment on Akashi.

As strips of his flesh and bits of his bone sloughed off him and disintegrated in the heat, the fire was mocking him, taunting him. He could sense the flames saying, _Dig deep, dig deep. Burn all your layers away. Reveal your very core. All your weaknesses and your vulnerabilities. Show just how weak and pathetic you are._

Akashi thought Tetsuya and Chihiro were somewhere in the darkness jeering at him too. _You're so weak that you must always win, so needy and feeble. You're so pathetic that you must torment others before you feel powerful._

_I don't_, Akashi sensed his mouth saying. _I do it because...because..._

Suddenly he could feel moisture on his face. Moisture? In this heat? He reached up a hand, trying to grope at his face, even though the pain was so intense it was wracking his whole body, making him incapable of movemen–

Akashi opened his eyes in shock.

He could suddenly hear water rushing in his ears. Water? It was immediately followed by a stinging sensation in his eyes. He reached up a hand, then he felt wetness all over his body.

Realisation struck him. He was in the shower.

He stretched out his hand, groping for the tap. When the water stopped gushing out from the shower head, he was plunged into an empty silence. The water droplets falling from his body and the shower head onto the floor made plip-plop echoes that reverberated around the silent bathroom.

With the sounds of the falling water droplets he could hear his ragged breathing. He could feel strands of his saliva dripping down his jaw onto his neck and bare chest, intermingling with the water still dripping from his hair.

Akashi struggled to reach for his towel and push the shower door open at the same time. He slipped slightly in the water, making a sharp screeching sound in the bathroom. When he emerged from the shower, he walked towards where the mirror would be, rubbing his face vigorously with his towel.

Once he reached it, he pulled off the towel, and glared at himself in the mirror through the thin layer of condensation. One red eye. One orange eye. A perfect, straight nose. Full lips. His usual faultless features, arranged symmetrically on his face.

But his expression wasn't the usual.

His eyes looked bloodshot and were slightly widened. His nostrils were flared. His lips were parted, sounds of ragged breathing still escaping from them.

_Why...why–_ He lifted a twitching hand, his towel falling to the floor at his feet, and dragged his fingers across the condensation, forming parallel lines like prison bars. His shoulders shuddered with the movement. _Why do I keep dreaming about the fire? Why couldn't I control the fire? It's in my mind. Why can't I control my mind? Why can't I just–_

Against the mirror, his fingers curled slightly, still twitching and jerking. _Why can't I just stop thinking about Tetsuya and Chihiro? _It seemed like wetness was on his face. Particularly below his eyes.

Remnants from the shower. He lifted his other hand to dig his nails into his cheekbones, forming half-moon indentations in his skin. He closed his eyes.

_Why is it so important to me that I have to control them, to break them? To control everything? To win, and assert dominance over them? To reach the top? _

His heart clenched, just as his fingers dug deeper into his skin, and his other hand scratched the smooth surface of the mirror. He felt a surge of anger, of desperation and frustration within him. The emotions strained at his throat, at his vocal chords. He wanted to scream.

_Why have I been feeling this ever since I was a child? I had my insect collection to observe, prod and play with all those diminutive creatures. Father encouraged the methodical way I kept and labelled my collection. _

He swallowed, trying to keep his scream down.

_Father says I need to win. Father says I must lead others. It is my duty, as Akashi Seijuurou._

Akashi's eyes flew open. He glared at himself in the mirror. He willed his shoulders to stop shuddering– they kept shuddering– to just. Stop. Shaking.

_Victory. Control. Dominance. What do they all mean to me, rather than what my father says?_

He pulled back his hand from the mirror. Curled it into a fist.

_I don't know. I don't know!_

With gritted teeth, he pulled back his arm, wanting to slam his fist into the mirror. Wanting to break it, to dispel that snivelling, pathetic boy who looked so much like him in the mirror. That boy looked so lost, so confused, so weak. That boy had marks of wetness beneath his eyes. That boy was sniffling, releasing such shuddering breaths. That boy's nose was turning red.

But just before his fist made contact with the mirror, he stopped. His eyes widened in realisation. His fist hovered, just an inch away from the surface of the mirror.

_They bring me meaning._

His fist slowly fell to his side. He looked at himself in the mirror. All of a sudden, he could see himself again. Calm and in control. Unruffled.

_They bring solace, peace, and tranquility to me. Exactly like how others find solace in their values and philosophies. Values and philosophies make up people's identities. Winning is a part of my identity. Part of my very existence. And being dominant over others, like Chihiro and Tetsuya, who are defiant, makes me who I am. _

He closed his eyes, his breathing calming down. The wetness on his face was drying up.

_Trying to control others who are defiant is as natural to me as the sun rising in the morning. As the moon rising in the night. As the tides moving with the moon. Rising and falling._

His lips turned upwards.

_Pushing and pulling. It is natural. _

Akashi opened his eyes again. This time, he glared at himself in the mirror, inspecting every inch of his naked body.

_I am Akashi Seijuurou, and I am absolute. I will win in the Interhigh, and the Winter Cup, and every other subsequent competition because it is my duty to my father and because it is my duty to myself and my identity. But most of all..._

He turned away from the mirror and started walking towards the door. He paused. A moth was fluttering by the window of his bathroom, catching his eye, and drawing his attention.

_...I will do it because it is perfectly natural for me._

He reached out his hand, and grabbed the moth.

* * *

**Note: **To the people who stuck by this fic to the end, thank you for supporting me and indulging my insanity!

I know I went in a weird direction with Akashi (and it's only about basketball too!), and that can be touchy with some people. I hope I managed to show that I didn't make him twisted for no reason. But even if you hated this, I would love to know what you think! Comments are always greatly appreciated, whether good or bad. :D


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